Catastrophic
by Live.Write.Love01
Summary: Restless nights and a want, the need for closure bring the remainder of the gang back to the island in which they had once abandoned. New discoveries unfold, lives are in danger, and maybe Cat wasn't going crazy after all. Sequel to A Lost Hope. On Hiatus
1. Albino Walls

_**Chapter One**__  
>Albino Walls<em>

A consistent and frequent beeping filled the silence of the room, corrupting it, ricocheting from each, blinding white curtain and wall. The sharp and yet at the same time, faint intonation was emitting from a small monitor resided in the middle of the near empty room, beside a single twin, occupied, bed in which was secured upon the wall albeit propping and holding itself upon slick obsidian tires. A single window elicited the feeble light of the moon beyond, cracked open gently as to whisk in fresh air, the rain and rumbles of earth shattering, boisterous claps of thunder perfectly and painfully loud. The sounds, the scenery in itself was rather depressing – at glance the imagery could clearly decline one's mood, and it's occupant within the private latitude would not bother to object.

Outside of the room was very much the same as far as scorn had went; the rushing of footsteps and the voices shouted in blurry, in-comprehendible phrases and demands, moans and groans of pain all added up into one. It was a bitter scene to picture, experiencing it firsthand one could only imagine, and was no better. Perhaps it had been worse. There was no gentle, reassuring voices, no easy-going conversations – just emptiness, an obsidian abyss of horrific scenarios that otherwise would have brought pleasure to sadistic human beings; persons much like herself. Or rather, what had been. Doubtless, where this particular incumbent resided within the walls of Los Angeles Medical Hospital Over-Night section.

The lack of any humane interactions within the room only shielded from the hallway by towering curtains, was enough to drive anyone mental. Occasionally a doctor or two would enter the room, clipboard and pen in hand, ask a question and desert this particular occupant, someone whom others might have been rather afraid of. It was not enough; a draconian, ludicrous ostracism she was forced to endure, no matter how maligned her protests. She had not been able to wear, nor see her own accoutrements in quite some time, guest sojourn's were frequent yet pulled short – the longest she had seen someone was a little bit over two hours, in a matter of one weeks time. One would presume her to be out by now, released to live the rest of her life now that she was no longer in need of intensive care (in her opinion), however once she had she found herself back in this same bed four days later, right after the conjoined funerals, for doubtful reasons any person would shiver, or pity her for doing.

Jadelyn August West, not even a day after Caterina Valentine's and Brent Shepherd's wake and funeral, had attempted to kill herself. and hadn't it been for Beckett Oliver, boyfriend of just over two years, she would have succeeded. Life she had learned, the hard way it seemed, like always, was merciless. To take the lives of those dearest to her, make her suffer through weeks of immediate treatment due to her illness, which she had later discovered as type four (of course, the worst type) Malaria, and fever almost so high, had rescue not come when it had, no doubt she would be enduring some certain, or rather sort, of brain damage that could very well, essentially kill her. However she hadn't been that lucky and was instantly taken to the emergency room upon landing in Los Angeles, to engrossed in horrid thoughts to care.

Still, after plenty of days, a week to be exact, she could not wrap her mind around the fact that Cat and Brent were gone, and the fact that with her own hands she had murdered someone. It was a horrid thing to think, that two people so young and full of life, one hadn't even made it to their senior year in High school yet, the other, just in college, had been tragically taken away from the world. One being her best friend, her sister, and the other being her stepbrother. Yes, in return someone not as innocent and as deserving of life as the two other teenagers had been killed, and most hopefully in Hell as she lay here, but that did not disregard the fact that she had taken someone's life with only a blade and a swift push.

And, no matter how much they had persisted and pried at her, attempting to take her belongings and put them someone safe, where she could focus on getting her mental status better, no doctor could get her to release the crumpled piece of lined paper she had kept in her pocket; and when it wasn't in her pocket, it was in her palms, or somewhere she could feel it. Jade would, no matter the circumstance, never give Cat's letter up if it had killed her – which was something she so badly wanted to happen, even if that had meant leaving Beck, who deserved someone better than her own, bitter self. The bond between she and the redhead had been too great for her to give up on, and watching her lowered six feet beneath the ground, to where Jade could never see her again, were the seams of that friendship tearing.

Evidently, the same thing had gone with Brent. If she had one of his belongings, or something specifically given to her at the time before his death, she would have it close to her as well. She couldn't help but think of how cruel she had been to him that very night when they had made their way to rescue Beck and Cat from the campsite in which Trina and that guard boy with the acne and greasy hair she had threatened to kill, something she had learned not too long ago, had burned down.

"Ms. West?" A feeble voice came from the doorway, and with little energy she pried her gaze from observing the rain and to the nurse standing before her. "Your mother is here to see you."

"Tell her to go away." Jade mumbled in response, shaking her head and turning away once again – she knew her stepmother would come at such an hour; she had visited plenty of times in the past demanding to know what happened to Brent, but had not once asked how she was doing, nor holding up. It didn't seem to matter to her that her stepdaughter, now the only child in their family, had attempted to kill herself with deep gashes sliced across her wrists and burn blisters accompanying them.

"She said it was very urgent for her to speak to you," Said the nurse in a firm tone, nearly sounding as annoyed as Jade; which was something not so surprising. All the nurses in the Los Angeles Medical Center had some sort of issue with each and every single one of their patients, whether they be on their death bed or whether they were not; for whatever reason this was, no one was quite aware of.

"Whatever, but I want her gone in ten minutes." She replied with a glare, leaning further into the pillows of her makeshift hospital bed, which was by no means comfortable. Jade's voice was monotonous, even more so than it ever was, and she had felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was no anger beneath her common, natural glare. Nothing. It was as if the death of Brent and Cat had pulled at the very last of her emotions, making her become a shell even to the man that she had loved. Lifelessly she stared at the wall, wishing to be exactly that, _lifeless_, and did not notice when her step mother had walked into her hospital wing, as quiet as a mouse regardless of the clicking of her heels.

Problem was, this was _not_ her stepmother.

"_Mom?_" Jade inquired, baffled, as she stared at the tall figure that eerily resembled her – she knew the outline of the face, the rangy brunette hair cascading in heavy, graying curls down her shoulders and the figure of her body. Her mother had looked exactly the same as she had six years ago, despite the ashen tint to her fringe.

"Yeah," said Mrs. West with a sheepish smile as she approached the side of her bed, grabbing hold of her daughters pale hand with one of her own, bony appendages. "Yeah, it's me Jadey. I'm here."

"How-Why are you here? I haven't seen you in ten eff-ing years!" She blanched incredulously, though did not pull her hand from her mother's.

"I moved away to New Jersey when your father and I got the divorce. He just called me, Stephan did, a couple days ago telling me what happened. I hadn't heard about the crash until a week ago, when you all got back, but the quickest plane here was just this morning." Mrs. West explained as she sat into the chair beside her, hand squeezing hers. "I hate to turn up out of the blue, but I…"

"So the only time you'd want to so much come in contact with me, is when something like this happens?" She questioned with a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, feeling for the first time in weeks, a familiar fury.

"Jade, whenever I tried your father stopped me from doing so. It was out of my hands," she sighed and slumped her shoulders.

"Well that's when you tell him to stop ordering you around because you're not his wife anymore or either call me personally. I'm sure you can find out my number." Snapped Jade, nearly tearing her hand from her mother's. "It's been ten years and not once have I talked to you. You make me put up with my stepmother who's exactly like dad in so many disgusting ways and –"

"How is Madeline by the way?" The older woman interrupted. "And her son?"

"Brent passed away," her voice lowered octaves considerably and her throat tightened, constricting and causing her eyes to water and glisten, "during the plane crash." She was forced to lie – they had all agreed not to say anything more about the other people residing on the island they had been stranded on.

"Oh no, is everyone else alright? Are they…?"

"Um…just him and Cat."

"Who-?

"She's my best friend and she's like my sister," Jade said, bringing a hand up to wipe furiously at her eyes as if to cover up her tears, not wanting to seem as vulnerable as she appeared, "she passed too. But I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure you don't?" Asked Mrs. West with a concerned frown, looking flabbergasted and sympathetic, "it's not good to bottle up what you're feeling Jade – it ruins you, and lands you here."

"No, I just said I don't want to talk about it." She snarled, sitting further up in her bed and glowering at her mother. "You sound like my therapist."

"You have a therapist?" She continued to inquire, still appearing concerned. Jade wanted to puke.

"Um. Yeah I do. Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I just didn't expect your father to be so thoughtless making you go to someone to talk about your problems," her mother replied sarcastically, and here, one could easily see that she was Elizabeth West, mother of sarcastic bad girl Jade West of Hollywood Arts, without an ounce of questioning. "Really, Jade…I just didn't expect it."

"Well, mother," said Jade blandly, staring down at black painted fingernails as if boring holes into them. "We've got a lot to talk about."

* * *

><p><strong>That awkward moment when there's like a blizzard in the middle of October. O.o<br>Yep, it's **_**snowing. **_**Mother Nature, you never cease to amuse me. **

**Hey again everyone! How are you guys? I decided to do you all a little favor, again, by posting up the first chapter! The next one probably won't be posted for a while, but it won't be **_**too **_**much of a wait. "Of Pianos and Cupcakes" is almost finished with just a few more chapters to go, and I already have half of the second chapter to this one done. The plot line is all complete, with a few tweaks here and there, but it seems like you guys might enjoy it more than the last? I really hope so. But you'll just have to wait and see! **

**If you haven't seen or might have forgotten, in my author's note on A Lost Hope, I informed you all that this is going to be taking the horror-ish genre, which means that it'll get a little crazy at some points. Well actually, very crazy. And I'll just give one little hint…The last installment was not the last time you see Brent or Cat. What could that mean? Well I'm not telling you. :D And just a little warning, there will be violence, and character death. I have such a pro ending for this story, like I wrote it and everything and omg…I wish I could just post it now but I can't. It's so awesome; excuse me if that sounds conceited. I'm just excited. Very, very excited. :D**

**And, just throwing this out there, it'd be really nice if you decide to brighten up a terrible day by reviewing...:)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Sneak Peek:<strong>_

"You know, I think being in this hospital bed made her the insane one." Complained Trina as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest with a shake of her head. "There's no way I'm going back – I mean, you see what happened with-"

"Don't you continue" Said the youngest Vega sharply, glaring at her sibling, "don't you say their names."

"Well it doesn't matter, because I'm not going there ever again. And that's _that_!" She replied hastily over the murmur of the shortened group. "_Brent and Cat died there._" The room silenced, and Tori awaited for the outburst that would surely come. She did not have to wait long.


	2. Decisions Change Everything

_**Chapter Two**__  
>Decisions Change Everything<em>

In a swift moment, but none too fast nor eager, a young Latina stepped from the Los Angeles Hospital's elevator and to the fourth floor, where one of her friends was currently being held. With her older sister flanking her, looking bored and uninterested, the two walked on in complete silence – it was a rare occurrence indeed, but as they say, tragedies change people, and in all fairness Victoria Vega surely felt like she had changed. Seeing a therapist once every Wednesday night, talking to Lane, their school's guidance consoler obsessed with, for whatever reason, lotion nearly each day she arrived at school. Once before class begun and on separate occasions, the group had been called down during lunch time for another daily chat. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder had been pointed out several times, but upon learning that there was medication involved in the treatment, she had not wasted any time in declining the offer. She could very well live fine just the way she currently was; she hadn't changed as much as one would seem. Still hopeful, still trying to keep order…She was the same Tori, but tweaked and tampered with.

There was however, the fact that everyone else in their group of friends had changed as well; more so than she. Especially Jade, she concluded as she walked the hallways of the familiar hospital heels clicking against the tiled floor. The gothic girl seemed like an empty shell and she can't recall the last insult thoroughly aimed in her direction. Beck remained the same, more silent than usual and constantly worried about his girlfriend's health and safety, and each time she had seen him he appeared to have a frown plastered upon his naturally handsome, tan face; hair wilder than normal. Robbie and Andre attempted to cheer each and every one of them up with jokes; Rex had disappeared long ago, much to the ventriloquists despair, but even the two boys had trouble coming up with something decently cheerful.

Even Hollywood Arts had appeared to have morphed; without it's joyful, belle of energy and happiness waltzing about the hallways, lighting up the classrooms with pitiful, insane stories of her brother, the school for once seemed dull. To others her death might not have affected them as greatly and as effectively, but for the five remaining, most talented students to, in their generation, walk the hallways of this performing arts high school it had shaped their lives forever. Not only that, but the crash as a whole fabricated their lives; one could easily tell the stress bearing down upon their shoulders, the atrocity looming above each one's head as they walked, sat, slept and ate – they felt older, mature. It was nearly heart wrenching that teenagers with such potential as great as theirs were forced to grow up so quickly, to, first hand, experience such an atrocity and death, and was pointed out numerous times from their arrival back into Los Angeles.

And, as if it had been necessary for everybody to know, to invade their personal lives even further, the performing arts school had had an assembly on the matter, post the tribute made for Cat, in which the a random News Channel had attended and filmed. On any normal occasion, Tori would have loved to have the opportunity to get on TV, just like Trina, however everyone of them had refused to answer any questions that were thrown at them by the students and the interviewers; she considered Jade very lucky that she'd been subjected to hospital bed rest, therefore missing the horrible torture they were forced to endure. Speaking of the Gothic, bad girl of the school, in which the two Vega's were currently on their way to see (they had all received a rather demanding text message to get their "asses here this minute"), she wasn't quite sure what to think of what was in store for their visit, and she wasn't sure what to think with her suicide attempt. She hadn't known how broken the other girl really was.

"Uh, hi," Tori said as she approached the front desk of the floor at last, her hands gripping the finely polished marble lightly with Trina standing right over her shoulder uncomfortably, "My name's Tori Vega, that's my sister Trina…and we're here to see uh, Jade West."

"Oh" Said the nurse with a frown, scanning through something upon the computer beside her, "Ms. West isn't taking visitors at the moment unless it's urgent; she hadn't mentioned any names. Perhaps you could come back later –"

"No no, that won't be necessary" Remarked Tori with a sigh, fishing through her pockets for her PearPhone and skimming through the messages, ready to use proof should she need to, "see, we got a really important text from her and she said that she wants us here. Maybe you might know a Beck Oliver? He's her boyfriend – he's probably already here! And Andre, and Robbie and…" She trailed off with a frown, her deceased friends name stuck upon her tongue as if it had been by glue.

"Ah yes, Mr. Oliver and Harris are here at the moment, they came as a pair." The nurse smiled lightly, curling bony fingers around the phone beside her. "Just a moment ladies," she said softly, punching in a number Tori couldn't quite make out clearly and, after a few minutes of speaking she turned back to the duo of siblings. "You two may go, but remember, visitors hours end at 9."

"Great, thank you!" She smiled kindly at the assistant, but before turning like Trina had, she stopped. "Wait, what's her room number again? I don't really remember…"

"456, to your left."

* * *

><p>"I want to go back to the island."<p>

"Wait, what?" Tori faltered upon hearing the sudden, abrupt news, her heart nearly stopping within her chest. It was her whom had broken the expeditious moment of silence that loitered about the private hospital room, yet her voice faired just lightly over a whisper in her own shock. She stared, slack jawed, at the gothic girl sitting within the bed in the middle of the closed in room, IV hooks attached to her arms, and fingers plucking at a strap – something she knew not of why it was there in the first place, perhaps only because she was on suicide watch. "You want to go back there…because?"

"Jade, that's insane." Commented Beck before his girlfriend had a chance to answer, looking just as bewildered as the others within the group. "Why would you ever want to go back _there_?"

"Because," Said Jade with a roll of her eyes, scowling at them and averting her attention to the bandages tightly calloused over her forearms. Tori cringed. "We need some kind of closure, right? Yeah, we do. We left the second that they found us and didn't talk about it since. Where better to do it than the island?"

"That doesn't make sense." Robbie braved sheepishly, new specs perched high upon his long bridged nose as he too stared at the girl, that seemed to have all the attention upon her and didn't even realize it. Maybe she had, but she didn't acknowledge it.

"I'll show you what doesn't make sense, Shapiro."

"Okay…well…" Tori drawled on cautiously, hands folding within her lap as she leaned forward in her chair, unsure of where she was going with her reply. "Say we do go back to the island…isn't it still dangerous? I mean with what's his face there and everything…it's a really big risk. We don't want to end up, um, you know…dead."

"No one's asking you to go Vega" Snapped Jade with a roll of her eyes, twirling a strand of her newly dyed ebony locks (still mixed with a variety of pigments) with her finger absently, something that eerily reminded her of Cat and very uncharacteristic of the other girl. Perhaps it was an influence, or maybe she had been thinking of the other girl in which prompted her to act upon impulse and spin the fringe. Whichever, Tori had never seen the gothic girl do such a thing before. "I'm just saying, it's a good idea and maybe this time you should listen to me!"

"You know, I think being in this hospital bed made her the insane one." Complained Trina as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest with a shake of her head. "There's no way I'm going back – I mean, you see what happened with-"

"Don't you continue" Said the youngest Vega sharply, glaring at her sibling, "don't you say their names."

"Well it doesn't matter, because I'm not going there ever again. And that's _that_!" She replied hastily over the murmur of the shortened group. "_Brent and Cat died there._" The room silenced, and Tori awaited for the outburst that would surely come. She did not have to wait long. But it had been from someone whom she did not expect to speak up, someone who hadn't spoke at all since they had been here – Andre; the very same Andre that she had been in a slowly progressing relationship with since their arrival back home.

"Trina, what the hell girl? I know you got to be joking right now," He said heatedly, pointing an accusing finger in her elder sister's direction, which, startled, glanced over and narrowed her brow. "Who in their right minds would be that inconsiderate, especially since Jade nearly killed herself because of them passing away! Come on, I know you're not like that, you're a better person than you were before. Don't be like that."

"Sorry, my God" Mumbled Trina, crossing her arms and staring at the ground. "It's just, not a good idea and I don't want my baby sister ending up like them!"

"Just shut up!" Yelled Jade, startling nearly all of them, "shut up with your damn complaining! No one wants you to go anyway, so don't! Go run home and pretend that nothing fucking happened!"

"Guys please, stop arguing okay?" Tori interjected as she stood up beside her sister, placing a hand around her arm as if she was reassuring that she was on no sides, but was still supporting her family over anyone else. "Personally, I think it's a bad idea; it's stupid and ridiculous. But then again…" she paused at the sight of Jade's deadly glower and investigated the expressions of the others around her. "Then again…she does have a point. We all need closure, look at us. We're not the same."

"Everybody changed," Robbie's disappointed sigh came from the other side of the room.

"Yeah, exactly. So let's change it. Let's go, right when I get out of this god forsaken hospital bed." Jade grumbled as she leaned back into her pillows, hand entwining with Beck, who feverishly nodded with his eyes squeezed shut. A vague silence loitered about them, a luminous cloud hanging about, and each and every one of them exchanged glances of equal thoughts, all except for one.

Five agreed, but the eldest Vega's decision remained the same.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy Halloween everyone! Even though I'm not much of a fan and it's not fun to me anymore, I hope you have (had) a fun, safe night! Mischief Night is more like my thing :P but shh, you didn't read that. Anyway, I was thinking about writing up a quick Halloween Special – it was going to be Cade, but I can't think of a thing to write about. It'd be a one shot of course. But if you want me to and you have an idea that I like and that I can tweak up, consider it done, and completely dedicated to you! This is an optional thing, it doesn't need to be done or anything, it's just for…well, I dunno, fun I guess?<strong>

**Next couple chapters are going to start heating up with suspense and horror (duh! :D) so be prepared everybody, be prepared. I can't wait until Chapter Four ;) Some Tori/Trina sibling lovins coming up next!**

**TheScarletOctopus, Im Right Here 13, kikudog6, Lily Jess and Andrea1301**: Thank you for your awesome reviews! :) Love you all! s2 (that's a heart by the way).  
><strong>Andrea1301:<strong> Yeah, it was snowing _all day_ yesterday! We got at least 12 inches of snow covering the ground, too bad school wasn't canceled or anything, but it looks like we're going to have a white Halloween this year…haha. And you've never seen snow before? Wow, that's crazy! And depressing in a way! Hopefully one day you will :)

_**Sneak Peek: **_

"Tor, I just don't want you getting hurt okay? You're my baby sister, I don't know what I'd do if you ended up like Cat and Brent…" Said Trina quietly, bottom lip quivering.

"I promise you," Tori said as she enveloped her older sibling within a bone shattering embrace, burying the side of her face within the curtain of luscious brown curls and waves, "I promise you that I'll come back, okay? I'll be fine; we won' t even be there for long. Maybe a day or two."

"Are you sure you don't want to change your mind? I mean there's still time…"

"No," she smiled gently, pulling away with tears clouding her vision knowing in her heart the Trina really, truly cared, "There's no turning back now."


	3. Recrudesce

_**Chapter Three  
><strong>__Recrudesce_

Two weeks passed.

By degree, the gothic sixteen year old was released from the hospital, no longer captive to the bland walls, nor the fire beneath her skin, burning in a fever in result in the severity of her illness, as well as the undoubted degree of the self inflicted wounds upon both of her forearms. She was free, able to roam Los Angeles as she pleased, albeit told she was to be under constant, watchful eyes nearly an entire week's time, seizing their plan to trek to the island once again, forced to endure the therapy that her comrades, as well, had to deal with on their own watch and schedule. Pushed back and faltered, their plan nevertheless would proceed, and it was only a matter of time until it was to fall into action. How she would explain her reasoning to her parents, and as well as the others to theirs, she had no clue. No matter, she would go despite their protests.

Jade was nearly seventeen, and in her book, that symbolized adulthood more over than eighteen had. She had grown up too mature for her own good when she was little – by the age of ten she acted just as she did currently, sophisticated and determined for just a young girl. Only because she had suffered the loss of family; it no longer existed in her world, with her mother having gone and her father caring none but what she was to be as far as occupation went, when she was older. When he had married, Brent because the only family that she had; the two worked together efficiently, and now that he had passed away only mere weeks ago, and regardless if her father was being kinder, she had no one.

Kinship was an important, contributing factor in her life. She needed support in order for her acting career to pursue, someone to look up to and always have on her side whenever she and Beck got into arguments. She needed it now more than ever, now that her non-blood related sister was gone, as well as her own stepbrother; she was lost, going back to the island was her only choice, and that last thread of the West family, her father, was not going to stop her try as he might. When Jade had her mind set on something she intended on seeing it through – and she was half tempted in not even telling him in the first place. But, had she gone with that idea rather than sitting him down and explaining the situation, more trouble would ensue, police would get involved, and everything with turn to turmoil. And it wasn't like she had enough of that going on in her life as it is.

It had not been the last time she had seen her birth mother, weeks ago within the hospital's bed. She had visited regularly, and the two had gotten closer – each woman sharing their life experiences with one another, comparing, and only the youngest less enthusiastic as the other. And, upon entering her home for the first time in months, an outlandish feeling that was, with Beck's truck zooming off into the distance, seeing her mother and her father, and Madeline upon the couch discussing something not quite comprehendible was not much of a surprise. Each got along well with each other, much to her dismay – still, she looked for some sort of drama that could take her mind away from what she was about to say, from her deceased friends.

"Oh Jade! Good, you're home dear" Said Madeline in a thick, Australian accent as she emerged from the leather couch to gather the stable girl into an awkward embrace that she had not returned. "You should have told us you were on your way, otherwise we would have tidied around the house a tad!"

"Yeah whatever," Murmured the gothic girl as she crossed her arms, dropping a bag of her items upon the wooden panels beside the stairs leading to the second story, leaning against the railing. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about, Jadelyn" Mr. West commented as he stood as well, though making no further movement to envelope his only daughter and remaining child like her stepmother had. Her biological mother remained seated, staring idly at her fingers; Jade stared at her in resultant to her curiosity, though her attention averted to her speaking father, rolling 'round in a swift, familiar movement. She crossed her arms over her chest, head tilted as she glared at him, narrowed eyes and posture intimidating. "We were just speaking about the crash, that's all."

"Great," she began with a light shrug of her shoulders, voice monotonous, "because I wanted to talk to you guys about that."

"What's it, love?" Asked Madeline as she sat down beside her mother; she seemed calmer than she had ever seen her, and she only presumed this was because Laura (Mrs. West) was about, and the fact that she had lost her son, something that would surely greatly affect the woman. "Is there something that we need to know? Anything you need?"

"For you to stop talking," Jade snapped harshly, her fists tightening until her knuckles paled, arms still crossed over her chest defiantly. "And yeah, you need to know something. My…friends, Beck and I are going back to the island tomorrow morning, Andre's going to provide us with a boat to get there, and we need to know which direction to go. You were on that search team, dad. How do we get there, how long will it take?"

"Jadelyn, what is this? You are not to go back to that island," said Mr. West just as defiantly, "I forbid it. You pulled enough stunts that risked your life, I'm not about to let you make another mistake."

"One, its Jade" She paused with another roll of her eyes, "and two, I'm going no matter what you say. I need this, we all need it. Cut me some slack, it's not like I willingly want to be there. We're not even going to stay there for long. It's just for closure. You're not about to stop me; my mind is made and set."

"It's dangerous, Jade!" Laura spoke for the first time, "you don't know what can happen; Mr. Vega told us all about it, those terrible people! You're endangering yourself and the lives of all of your friends as well!"

"Did you not just hear me? I just said that we won't be staying there for long; and we'll always have the boat just in case something happens. It's over; everything is over." She explained warily and impatiently, fingers twirling around the necklace in which she and Beck had bought together, tips tracing the patterns of her half gently. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, probably before you all wake up. So don't try to stop me."

"At least," her father sighed anxiously, "at least bring adult supervision."

"Yeah, nothing to worry about" she wished Vega was here, to mock her, though evidently she didn't feel she had the will to do so at all anymore, "we've got it covered."

She lied.

* * *

><p>"My dad said that when he found us, we were 100 miles off course," Tori explained as the group, at four in the morning, walked slowly to the awaiting boat upon the dock near the coast, each person listening intently, some off of sleep deprivation and others off of the little energy they had left upon waking so early, "we weren't even going in the right direction. Our plane landed on some islands near the East Coast of Russia."<p>

"Some pilot you've got us there, Vega" Jade mumbled, fingering a piece of crumpled paper within her palm, something the Half Latina knew nothing of.

"Are you blaming this all on me? How was I supposed to know that –"

"Hey," Andre rested a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, slipping down to her waist and pulling her beneath his arm, "don't worry about it; none of this was your fault – it's no one's fault, not even the pilots. What good is it to blame something on someone who died a long time ago?"

"Okay, so we're basically supposed to go somewhere near Russia – but we don't know which island?" Questioned Beck as he walked beside Jade, swagger in his step and his eyes downcast. He sounded confused, or merely bewildered.

"Well," Tori began to explain again, ignoring the pounding within her chest as they drew closer and closer to the floating vessel leant by relatives of Andre's, "he said that if we kept traveling South of Russia, but far enough so that we can't see the coast of it, we should see a lone island, and that was the one that they checked and well, we were there. It's going to take a while to get there though, maybe a day…"

"Yeah no kidding," Jade retorted sharply, tucking the piece of paper into her pants pocket. "Where's Shapiro? If he's not here in five minutes, we're leaving without him, got it?"

Just as she had spoken, a rickety old mustang pulled up several feet away from where they were upon the dock, and sure enough, Robbie Shapiro emerged, panting, from the driver's side, glasses askew. From the passenger's side Trina surfaced, looking frazzled and tear stricken cheeks puffy and red. They, hand in hand, ran to the group together at a pace agonizingly slow, and Tori, startled at her sister's sudden and random appearance, tore her hands from her boyfriends and grasped them within her own, confusion shown in golden brown irises. However, before she got a chance to speak, wicked witch of the West groaned: "What the fuck?"

"Relax, god." Trina said with a pant as she glared in the other girls direction, "I'm not coming with you guys…I just wanted to say goodbye to my little sister!"

"Trina," Approached Tori with a gentle smile, "we spent all last night together."

"Still it's not the same!" She pulled her aside from the group, and though there wasn't much space in which they could go for privacy, but they had gone out of hearing distance. "I don't want you to go…that's why I came. I want you to come back home with me; mom and dad are worried too, I guess. I mean…"

"I can't just change my mind now," she replied curtly, skinny hands squeezing those of her sister's in a vice like grip of reassurance.

"Tor, I just don't want you getting hurt okay? You're my baby sister, I don't know what I'd do if you ended up like Cat and Brent…" Said Trina quietly, bottom lip quivering.

"I promise you," Tori said as she enveloped her older sibling within a bone shattering embrace, burying the side of her face within the curtain of luscious brown curls and waves, "I promise you that I'll come back, okay? I'll be fine; we won' t even be there for long. Maybe a day or two."

"Are you sure you don't want to change your mind? I mean there's still time…"

"No," she smiled gently, pulling away with tears clouding her vision knowing in her heart the Trina really, truly cared, "There's no turning back now."

"Yes there is, there's always that option! Come on, you can't just leave here; we've only been back for a couple weeks…going back there is like signing a warrant to your suicide. I mean, I know you're not _that_ dumb."

"Um…" Tori blinked hesitantly, brows furrowing. "That's not exactly encouraging you know, sis."

"Promise you'll be careful alright? And come back soon?" Trina nearly begged, her voice a loud wail and fresh tears cascading from wide, doe brow eyes and trickling down smooth cheekbones.

"I promise. And I love you, Tree"

"I love you too, Tori."

And Tori Vega nearly reconsidered her decision – that had been the first time Trina said that to her, and actually meant it.

* * *

><p><strong>Holy Jesus did you see Ariana dress up as Jade and Liz dress up as Cat? My little shipper heart can't take it. Sorry, major Cade shipper (OTP!). I just thought it was awesome.<strong>

**Anywho. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! The next one is the one I've been waiting for…:)**

**Anon's, Jadiee, Lily Jess, Pinkbull115, Imrighthere13, Songbird341, kikudog6: **_Thank you all once again for your reviews! I look forward to seeing them! I really appreciate them! c:_**  
>Anonymous; <strong>_"Is Tori gonna die?"_Err, not quite. I don't want to give anything away. But thanks for the review.  
><strong>Lily Jess;<strong> We had a snow storm here too! It was pretty bad, but it was on Saturday – sorry you didn't get to do anything though!

_**Sneak Peek:**_

"Beck," Jade called cautiously and loudly as she glanced nervously about her surroundings, and for the second time in that hour she let her fear take control of her, her heart beating heavily within her chest to the point she felt her entire body thumping along with it, and her chest stung.

Another shuffle sounded from somewhere behind her, and with the knife closed within her palm she whirled around, ready to plunge the blade in whatever was tormenting her. However, when her eyes caught sight of what it had been, so close to her she could feel the coldness radiating off of it, her stomach plummeted to the ground and a strangled gasp elicited from her ajar mouth, and rather a soundless scream, her boyfriend's name followed suit, ear piercingly loud and nothing but a rare plea for what appeared to have been help. "BECK!"


	4. The Morgue

_**Chapter Four  
><strong>__The Morgue_

The gang of teenagers had reached the island in no time; it had taken a couple days abroad sea, a torturous, long 72 hours until they had hit the coral. They had abandoned the boat, surfaced upon the sandy beach, on the opposite side in which their plane had originally crashed – they were on the very side in which Cat had been shot and Brent had died; which meant they were dangerously close to the camp in which they had escaped from. Jade paid this no mind however, she felt that this might have possibly been a better idea; to be closer to the area in which was the climax to the incident. This would bring them the closure that they had needed.

But, the boys had had a slightly different idea. "Maybe we should, you know, check around." Andre had commented hours beforehand, wielding the gun within his palm toward the forest. "Make sure it's all good, safe and sound." No one had denied, and soon, they ventured into the forest all close together, unsure of what they would find and weapons tightly within their hands. The camp, they discovered, was just how they had left it – nearly completely burnt down with ashen painted walls, fallen trees and scattered pillars and rocks. It had been abandoned, not a soul in sight, and even Mira's body had disappeared.

And so, just for extra insurance, they had split up in groups. Jade and Beck and Robbie, Tori and Andre. She and her boyfriend were to search the interior, in the basement and the dungeons, whereas the others were to scope the exterior and the upper floors for any sign of life, though it was highly doubted.

"You get right side, I get left side?" Beck offered as the two sauntered to crossed paths, gesticulating to each passageway with his rifle.

"Whatever" she murmured, giving him a swift peck upon the lips before parting ways.

It was only ten minutes later when she found _the_ room. A door, wooden and random with a panel of stained, opaque glass. It sparked her curiosity instantly.

She pushed the door open with caution, only with one hand as the other was clutched tightly around the knife within her back pocket, and stepped inside. Immediately she was hit with a gust of frigid air and a horrid, poignant smell lofting about the underground room so terrible that she couldn't help but gag and cough. Covering her mouth and nose from the terrible aroma she observed her eerie surroundings, stepping one foot before the other and squinting under the dim, florescent light that had, in a way she hadn't caught, turned on the moment she turned the knob upon the wooden, foggy screened door. Scattered throughout the room, which was rather large once she had gotten a better look of it, were metal cots; more so examination tables with bodies, hundreds it seemed, laying atop of them, uncovered and pale.

Carefully stepping around the cots within what she dubbed as the morgue, observing each body with wide eyes laced with disbelief, Jade swallowed all of her pride, and for a split minute she allowed herself to be afraid. How could she not, when she was nearly surrounding by lifeless, void physiques; this was no movie, this was no prank – it was all very much real, and even someone like herself felt frightened by the prospect of being the only living thing in a room full of people. And then, her eyes spotted a body upon the cot; a sight that made her heart stop and falter.

Brent's body lay motionless and pale upon an examination table near the back of the room, and when she had reached his side, her breath hitching within her throat,

Tears falling gracefully from her cheeks, laced in ebony, Jade's hands found those of her step brother's, fingertips grasping tight hold upon the solidifying, pale skin. She bowed her head, nearly hunched completely over, and rested her forehead upon their entwined hands; she sobbed, just as openly and vulnerably as she had the day of his and Cat's conjoined funeral, as though he had just died only moments prior. His hand, his arm, lay limp in her hold albeit his fingers grazed the back of her palm, her tears falling gently on the rough, pale skin. She felt a great source of anger, of anguish overcome her; for his death, for his lack of a proper burial like Cat had gotten – he deserved the same, his grave deserved to reside right next to hers, yet he had been stuck in a morgue, for god knows how long. He had to have been placed here after the building had erupted in flames.

And this meant, someone had moved him, and they were not alone.

Someone must've moved all of these vacant silhouette's here, she concluded as she took the burns upon their pale, frigid skin into account, and the candid thought alone unnerved her.

Picking her head from their entwined hands, his limp within her vice grasp and tears streaming from steel gray irises, down porcelain cheeks too pale complexioned than the normal skin tone, Jade removed herself from him, trying with all her might to push another sob down from rippling from her throat and eliciting from her parted lips. Whilst in the middle of doing so, her elbow knocked something at her side, a smooth edge of thin element that merely sliced the skin upon the bone, creating a sting upon her flesh, and she cursed her voice thick with tears. She tilted her head, attempting to see the extent of the small cut that she had, unexpectedly, received; instead, a paper upon the table in which Brent's body lied caught her attention. It must have been this, she contemplated as she picked it up with shaking hands, investigating the foreign script and symbols; they were familiar, Cat had shown her, her keyboard (in which was in Russian script) as well as phonically upon paper, and she knew what it looked like without difficulty.

"_Jade_," a voice so faint emerged from somewhere behind her, resembling that of a man's – it was familiar, a ghost of a whisper, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, and focused upon the strip of paper in front of her, attempting to read the Russian script with hazy vision from what she had learned from Cat, she thought nothing more of it; surely, it was just one of her friends, possibly even Beck, standing within the doorway too cowardly to enter.

"What?" She called over her shoulder sharply, annoyed by the fact that she was being bothered. However, the voice continued to torment, growing louder as it spoke again.

"_Jade…_"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT? For Christ's sake," She growled loudly, voice still thick with tears, "can't you see that I'm trying to read, here? Or are you blind _and _deaf?"

Silence loitered about the room, and, confused and bewildered, the Gothic girl let the yellowing, decaying paper fall back to its place and spun on her heels to the doorway, expecting to see one of the four people in her group with a smug smirk upon their faces, hands on hips. Instead, she found herself glaring at absolutely nothing, the area vacant and void of anyone else beside her own self and the bodies she had shied away from. Warily, the scowl wiping from her face in almost an instant, she rolled her eyes and made to turn around again, however, a shuffling noise protruded from somewhere derriere to her, startlingly loud.

"Beck," Jade called cautiously and loudly as she glanced nervously about her surroundings, and for the second time in that hour she let her fear take control of her, her heart beating heavily within her chest to the point she felt her entire body thumping along with it, and her chest stung.

Another shuffle sounded, this time with the words "_look beside you_…", and with the knife closed within her palm she whirled around, ready to plunge the blade in whatever was tormenting her.

However, when her eyes caught sight of what it had been, so close to her she could feel the coldness radiating off of it, her stomach plummeted to the ground and a strangled gasp elicited from her ajar mouth, and rather a soundless scream, her boyfriend's name followed suit, a plea for help. "BECK!" She screamed, taking a step back. "BECK, GET IN HERE! NOW!"

Standing before her, bare torso tinted with black ink in fine, Russian script and symbolism, and unmoving, was _Brent_. His eyes were lifeless and dull, void of any pigment, yet boring down upon her as if she was a sin placed within a solid physique, as clear a day. She stood, frozen and rooted to her spot as her stepbrother lurched dangerously before her, lips downturned into a scowl and glare that could match her own; something that could send the Devil cowering should he have been present (or real, she considered). Jade couldn't understand how something was remotely possible, the dead awakening – it had been things only spotted within movies, something so cliché that it made her laugh; and they had all known what happened next to the person whom had witnessed it. Death, to become one of them, the very end of their life. It didn't seem so bad, death, but then again… this in itself was bizarre, didn't make sense, insane. It couldn't have been real, but it had sure seemed like it.

"_Got your wish now, didn't you Jadelyn?_" He taunted, ghoul of a voice as he took a step forward; she moved back as he did so, eyes wide as saucers. "_I wouldn't have been dead if it wasn't for you asking me to come on that bloody fucking trip of yours. Wouldn't have died. Wouldn't have been shot"_

"Wh-"

"_**Don't interrupt me, you filthy bitch!**_" Brent shouted loudly in her face, words echoing and ricocheting from the walls. Suddenly, and rather unexpectedly, he grabbed her wrist just as she wielded the knife before him, and unlike before his skin was surprisingly warm and feverish. How it was possible, she didn't know – but then again, how was this entire situation possible at all? "_You killed me, your own stepbrother, the only family you have left. Michael doesn't love you; his own bloody daughter. Mum hates your existence – you bring pain to everyone you meet! You murdered your only friend; the love of my life. How does it feel to be on this side of the sector, hmm? Filthy, _worthless_, __**pathetic**_**slut!**_" _He lurched forward, slamming her back against the nearest wall and moving his hands from her wrist and to her throat – in surprise, she dropped the knife tightly gripped within her hand and gasped, feeling her windpipe constrict and close. Where was Beck?

"_It was you who should've died. I was cheering when you attempted suicide, Cat was too. Oh, what's the matter?_" Her stepbrother continued to taunt, his voice the devils and smug; tears fell down her cheeks rapidly, and her heart wrenched with every word her said. "_Beck's a fool for loving someone as horrid, as cruel as you. A murderer._" He spat the word with such venom that it made her wince, and he wasted no time upon throwing her to the cold stone floor beneath the two of them. By now, once this action had been committed, it did not slip her vision that Brent was not the only corpse drawn from the tables in which they had once laid upon. Nearly every single one had been abandoned, and now, hundred's of the dead flanked his side, surrounding her in a small, tight spaced circle.

"Just stop!" She screamed as she closed her eyes and shoved at the nearest one, her hands coming in contact with a heavy chest and shoving it away from her – they were all taunting her, with stares and cruel words. "Shut up! Leave me the _fuck _alone!" With one more, mighty shove, she pushed Brent into a corpse behind him.

"Hey! Hey, Jade, stop!" Came a soothing voice and hands once more caught her wrist. Rather the harsh one that had come from Brent, the tone was familiar and collected, and she opened her eyes. Gray caught brown, and the enhanced structure of a handsome, brute and tan face surfaced from the blur of salty tears corrupting her vision. Beck's features were laced with concern and worry, his brows knitted tightly together and a frown tugging his lips downward – behind him was nothing. Corpse's remained placed upon their examination tables, Brent's still clear in view, and there was no traces that they had ever gotten up in the first place.

"Beck," she breathed, voice a broken whisper. He gathered her into his arms, almost protectively.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

><p><strong>Woooo, I've been waiting for this! It was pretty intense, if you ask me – but it's just the beginning! :) I'm so cruel, aren't I? Well, you'll find out soon enough, I'm about to get a little bit…crueler. The amount of swears in this chapter is ridiculous, so sorry if it was a little too overboard. <strong>

**I hope you all enjoyed it though! The beginning was kind of rushed because I typed those first few paragraphs up last and I had to start studying for my big, big driver's test tomorrow afternoon – which is probably going to take all night long. I really need to study for this; I want to graduate next year and I want to start driving soon! So, wish me luck guys :)**

**Oh, by the way. How do you guys format the stories? Like, when you read them? I have them as Times New Roman small font, 3/4 of a page. I recommend reading it like that if you don't already, I personally find it so much better! :p  
><strong>

**Please review with your thoughts! I smile each time I see one and they always make my day! **

_** Sneak Peek: **_

"Hey, Rob?" She asked cautiously as she leaned over the large crater within the earth, a great stench of mold and exhaust whisking into her nostrils, and instinctively, she placed a hand over her nose. "What are these things, do you think?"

"What are what things?" He asked, as if oblivious to the pits scattered around the terrain, whilst simultaneously jogging to her side with Andre quick in tow.

"These…rooms. Hole, thingy's" she said, gesturing about them. "They smell…kind of like…death. And gas."


	5. Empiricism

_**Chapter Five  
><strong>__Empiricism _

Outside, unbeknownst to them of what was going on within the interior of the camp building, the three other's observed their surroundings with precaution, flanking each other and constantly glancing about them, wondering what on earth had happened here. For Andre and Robbie, it had been the first time they'd ever seen this wretched place, clueless to the horrors in which had occurred here, clueless that this was where Jade had killed someone and Beck and Cat were tortured and forced into modern slavery. To them, she concluded as she look warily over her shoulder in caution, it had just been a burned down building that had caught spontaneous fire, rather a building in which Trina had burned down herself. Oh yes, Tori had been informed about everything on the boat ride back.

Her eyes caught sight of the trees, blackened with soot and scorched bark and leaves; others completely toppled over, knocking into one another and creating a scene of mass destruction. The grass was tinted brown and black, with the exception of some patches of random green and the entire region seemed to emit death – she couldn't help but wonder if, wherever she was walking, was an area in which someone had died and been buried; if she was stepping on someone's death bed. A cloud of gas and smoke loitered about the territory; from the grass to the very building and the trees; all in all, a very eerie sight, with an additional horrid aroma that forced her to cover both her mouth and nose with her scarf so she didn't vomit.

The region appeared to have been empty otherwise its current, venturing occupants and needless to say, Tori was very relieved and relaxed by this fact. She was half expecting them to encounter several armed beings the moment they stepped upon the lot, and the candid fact alone that they were not was enough to make her laugh with joy.

She found herself, thirty minutes later, wandering off alone within a large field with both of her friends several feet away from where she was – Andre, running his fingers over the burnt, blackened bark of the trees and Robbie cautiously glancing about the forest beyond them, though considerably far away from the tree line, as though he was afraid to even go near it. She continued to walk forth, unsure of where she was going and which direction she was trekking, her arms tightly crossed against her chest with her scarf covering her mouth.

And then, she tripped over something.

"Damn it," Tori muttered to herself as she hauled her body from the ground from her near neck-break fall, or what she assumed it to be as. Her foot had caught an object of the sort and threw her forward and into the grit beneath her, and in curiosity and anger she whipped around, eyes catching quick sight of the pipe that had escaped her view. Eyebrows shooting to her hairline she, intrigued, followed it in the direction in which it was leading, and stopped short at a large, underground hole plenty of feet under in the shape of a circle.

"Hey, Rob?" She asked cautiously as she leaned over the large crater within the earth, a great stench of mold and exhaust whisking into her nostrils as the scarf had fallen from her mouth and neck when she had fallen, and instinctively, she placed a hand over her nose. "What are these things, do you think?"

"What are what things?" He asked, as if oblivious to the pits scattered around the terrain, whilst simultaneously jogging to her side with Andre quick in tow.

"These…rooms. Hole, thingy's" she said, gesturing about them. "They smell…kind of like…death. And gas."

"I- I think I have a vague idea of what those things are" Robbie bent down, foolishly sticking his head inside one of the holes with his hands gripping the brick wall of the crater, and his glasses perched upon his long and crooked nose. Tori and Andre exchanged looks of equal confusion as he glanced about it, mumbling to himself.

"What's the idea, white boy?" Andre inquired, shoving his hands into his pockets and furrowing his brow considerably, leaning over to get a good look himself, but not going to the extreme in which Robbie himself was doing.

"Err…they kind of look like ovens."

"Ovens?"

"Yeah, kind of like these things that…that they used during the Holocaust. The crematoriums." He explained as he stood back up, stepping away from it with a grotesque look of horror.

"The Holo- wait what? Why not regular bake ovens?" Tori stuttered, terror coming across her own features as well at this new discovery, her eyes glued to Andre's, investigating his reaction as well.

"Um, you'd have to take a look for yourself to figure that one out…just like I did."

When she looked, she nearly screamed.

* * *

><p>Exiting the interior of the building with her boyfriend hastily in tow, Jade placed her hands on either side of her head and breathed quickly, inhaling deep breaths and exhaling the very same. Her heart was pounding in her chest, tears threatening to spill over flushed, red cheeks once again and her mind was racing, as though in a marathon, repeating everything her deceased step brother had said like a broken record ("<em>It's all your fault"<em>), contemplating exactly what had happened and coming up with absolutely no logical explanation.

"Hey, wait up!" Beck called after her, grabbing onto her arm as she continued to walk forward, toward the forest, without even waiting for him. She wanted to be as far away from the building as remotely possible, and though it seemed odd, she needed to be alone. "We need to talk about what happened back there! Jade, babe, you're scaring me.."

"No!" She screamed at him, tugging her arm away from his loose grip and backing away, "Look, I need to be alone. I don't want to talk about anything! Obviously you wouldn't eff-ing understand."

"Then help me too!"

"I'm going to the beach. Don't bother coming after me or I'll personally have you castrated."

The moment the words had left her mouth she turned around, hastily tearing through the various topiary within the forest without bothering to wait for his reply. She pushed everything out of her path, the tears finally falling as she had been alone at last, images of Brent before her eyes and blackening all else from her view. How could that have been even remotely possible? Could what he had said to her be true? That it was his fault both he and Cat were dead, and her very own best friend was cheering her on in the Heaven's as she attempted to gauge her arms deeply enough so she could bleed to death, feeling as much pain as possible? The thoughts of that alone was enough to bring further tears to her irises, and a strangled sob escaped her lips once more. If she hadn't had the case of Survivor's Guilt before, she surely had it now.

Falling to her knees several minutes later, she covered her face with her hands – crying all the tears she had failed to shed at their conjoined funerals many weeks ago. However, before she could further, the feeling of something digging into her kneecap distracted her; it was burning, poking into her skin as though it had been a knife. Curiously, she pulled her knee upward and reached down, grabbing hold of a thin, rectangular object. It was a lighter, a purple one, and upon shaking it, it was filled with fuel. Sniffling and wiping her eyes she looked round her, searching for anything else that could have very well been dropped by whoever – she did not have to look long.

Jade slid forth upon her knees and hands, and removed the pile of scattered leaves and twigs from a small white box, found lighter still clutched tightly within her palm. She knew not of what it was, but she had a very vague idea – and her thoughts were confirmed true when she brought the pack of Marlboro's cigarette's from the ground, undoubtedly Cat's personal pack she had dropped on their expedition back to the beach so many days ago. She paused as she opened the flap, checking round her surroundings to make sure she had been alone, before pulling a single blunt from the nearly empty truss and placing it the filter between her lips and carefully lighting it. Of course she had not an ounce of experience, and foolishly she inhaled all the way, immediately causing a fit of coughs so harsh that tears sprung to her eyes.

Catching her breath and wiping the liquid pouring from squinted eyelids, her lungs constricting each time she choked and face stained crimson, she tried once again. All the same, she failed to do so correctly – how Cat managed to do this all the time had yet to cease her amazement. Why she even begun in the first place, just because of Mouse, who had no idea of his little sister's spontaneous death, failed to register in her brain; she knew the redhead wasn't as innocent as she seemed, she just didn't suspect her to be a victim to addiction. And now, she herself was doing it; all because she wanted to try, because she wanted to relax, maybe have more of a connection to her now deceased friend.

Placing the cigarette filter between her parted lips once again, her breathing now fully in control after choking and spilling tears countless of times, Jade took in a small inhale of the exhaust and pulled it away, breathing in more fresh air. Once she hadn't begun to fall into a coughing fit, she exhaled through her mouth, watching as the smoke elicited and dissipated into the air. A calming sensation befell her, and, discovering that she had quite liked it, she took another drag, satisfied that she had finally gotten it down. It was a disturbing thing to know, she concluded as she calmly exhaled, her eyes closed, that something with such a feeling could mean and plan one's ultimate demise – and it was also very surprising that someone such as her best friend could have picked up such a habit. She propped herself upon the nearest tree, legs bent at the knees and rear uncaringly seated within the grit beneath. The sky was beginning to darken, but all fears of what had happened only 30 minutes ago didn't seem to bother her anymore.

She couldn't deny that she liked that.

* * *

><p><strong>Jaaade – y u doing this to yo self?<strong>

_**Predicted Warning**_**: Don't smoke you guys! It's bad for you and you get addicted really easy. Trust me; I fell into the habit of burning and now I can't get out of it. I know I probably sound like a hypocrite and a bad influence but I'm really, really trying to quit and better myself. Not exactly the easiest thing to do, so I encourage you all to stay away from it.**

**So I THINK I did pretty decent on my driver's test Thursday; I was pretty confident about it! :) And I went to hang out with a group of friends after school, got home around 9 and didn't have time to finish up the remaining touches to this chapter because I had a lot of things to do. Then on Friday, yesterday, I went out once again and stayed at my friends house – so sorry for the late update! I'll probably continue to upload chapters on a regular basis, probably daily, but I've been a little busy as of late so sorry if I don't.**

**What do you think Tori/Robbie saw? Don't be afraid to leave a review! :)**

**Jeremy Shane, Anon's, Jadiee, Lily Jess, Pinkbull115, Imrighthere13, Songbird341, kikudog6, boo, Andrea1301: **Thank you all for your reviews! And I'm sorry for freaking you guys out :P it's called Horror for a specific reason! Tehe.**  
><strong>**Songbird341: **Of course I can cut down on the cusses! I was initially going to, after re-reading I was like "holy Jesus, that's a lot, even for me." Even though he was meant to swear a lot in that particular moment for reasons I can't tell quite yet. So, sorry about that! :) thanks for the review and your input!  
><strong>boo &amp; Andrea1301<strong>: You'll find out if he's lying and why he was being mean soon enough ;) and I'm just a cruel person that leaves people with lots of questions! But feel free to ask whatever you wish and I'll do the best I can to answer them; either in a private message or like I'm doing here. Either will be fine, but chances are if you have one question, other people might have the same exact one, or something bordering it; so with that said…it would probably be better here.

_**Sneak Peek;**_

"Am I going insane?" Jade mumbled to herself, the cigarette falling from her pointer and middle finger and into the grass beneath her; she didn't bother to put it out, as she was staring straight ahead with her jaw hanging ajar – someone else, Beck, had done it for her with a swift stomp of his combat boot. She shook her head, rubbing her eyes, and opening them once again, in hopes that the brown haired girl would no longer be there. Of course. She was wrong.

"No," said Andre as he stepped beside her, his voice fairing, like hers, no higher than a whisper, "I see her too."


	6. Unsubstantial

_**Chapter Six  
><strong>__Unsubstantial _

Robert Michael Shapiro was Jewish.

He celebrated the holiday's, believed in the religion in which his parent's had dawned upon him and his younger sister, Rachael, and he had a grandfather whom had survived the Holocaust – his grandfather Arthur Hale on his mother's side. Arthur had been a survivor at one of the largest concentration camps, Auschwitz, and to this day had lived to tell the tale. Robbie was, evidently interested yet at the same time horrified, and very educated on the terrifying atrocity he had learned more about it at his own home than he had in school. Yet he was by no means prejudice of any German, or Russian (_Cat was Russian_), or Ukrainian; hell, he had a friend in his old school that was of that nationality, and although Arthur refused to meet him, he was welcomed in his house any time that he would like.

Now, he surely had his views. He thought what had happened so many years ago was horrible and unfathomable and he considered himself lucky not to be alive during those times. He would never want to relive it; and, should he even consider, the only way he would is if he was capable of Adolf Hitler's ultimate demise. And he just so happened to believe that the crematoriums were the worst things that he had heard of at these camps.

So when he had knelt down at Tori's and Andre's feet and foolishly leaned into the crater that the Latina had found, he was horrified to see the remainders of corpses, some fresh, some burned. The latter concerned him, all things considered _fresh_, was not something he was content to hear – it had appeared as if the bodies had been thrown in there to burn only hours beforehand but had yet to be consumed by the flames, as though whoever had thrown them down the underground centre had left to take a much needed break and forgot about them. There was so many piled atop of each other as though they were in a pack of sardines, in ripped garments caked with blood and soot. It was as if he was living in his grandfather's stories, someone who was forced to push deceased corpses into the ovens, and the candid thought was enough to make him sick.

And sick he got. He paid little attention to the reactions of his two comrades and stumbled off to the side, retching upon the grass several feet away from the pair with his glasses tossed aside and wild curly hair disheveled. Robbie, of course, did not have as strong of a stomach as the rest of them appeared to have; he had proved so many times beforehand, but out of everything he'd ever faced this happened to have been the worst. And, not only did it mean that there was another possible uprising (though highly unlikely, all things considered, they were on an abandoned island), but it had meant that they were putting themselves in danger just by being here. Again.

"Oh my God," Tori shrieked as she threw herself away from the crater she herself had discovered, and, whilst she begun to pace with her hands clutching either side of her head, she repeated herself over and over. "What the hell does this mean? That's-that's awful! Who does this!"

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that there's somebody else here." Andre said with a firm nod of his head, burly arms crossed over his chest. Robbie glared over his shoulder at the muscular boy, but he didn't seem to notice – he was too busy watching Tori as she paced, his expression marring one of equal concern and what guised to be as guilt; survivor's guilt, he concluded. Who, out of the entire group, didn't have it? He presumed this made it far more worse than it should have been.

"Good eye, Andre!" Snapped the pacing Latina, skinny arms flailing. "I-We…Let's just, get the hell out of here!"

"We have to find Beck and Jade," Robbie said as he wiped his mouth and unsteadily arose to his feet, the vile taste lingering upon his taste buds, nose and throat stinging, causing a weak grimace. "We shouldn't have came here, Trina was right!"

"Yeah, I don't think we're going to have to look long." Said Andre.

Both Robbie and Tori glanced over in the direction in which he was staring; the formers mentioned were walking toward the trio in the middle of the field, hand in hand but not speaking, passive appearing and all. He figured they had gotten into an argument at first, but the entwined fingers suggested otherwise, as well as Jade's disturbed facial expression. "Guys, we got to leave. You'll never believe what we found!" Robbie told them as they neared, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

"No one cares, Shapiro" Jade snarled at him, making him whimper and cowardly hide himself behind Tori at the wielding of the prongs of her scissors.

"Jade found a morgue" Spoke Beck as he rolled his eyes at his girlfriend's antics, but through both expressions Robbie could clearly tell they were leaving out pieces of information, hiding something. "It's in the basement – pretty jank…I don't think that what you found could top that. It's not exactly-"

"Safe here?" Asked Tori with a knowing tone, "yeah, we know. We found cremation rooms."

"Cremation rooms?" Inquired Jade sharply, glaring at the Latina with all that she had, as though she didn't believe her.

"Yeah, with _fresh_ bodies." Andre explained for her, emphasizing the word fresh, as if to get his point across, "which means someone else is here, right? I mean…"

"Just stop talking and show me these so called cremation rooms."

* * *

><p>The pits, or what they appeared to have been, sent chills down Jade's spine and the moment she caught sight of the bodies, she half expected them to verbally, and in some ways physically, show aggression her just as they had in the morgue before Beck had come quite cliché-like, to her "rescue" (though of course, being a West, <em>Wicked Witch of the West that is,<em> she would never admit that if her life depended on it). When she was proven wrong she couldn't have been more relieved – perhaps she was just having a panic attack at the sight of her meager vista of her deceased stepbrother, a hallucination. Something like that, she concluded discontentedly as she moved away from the underground, human bakery, was not real and could not happen.

It was unbelievable, unfathomable for such a thing to happen and she was most definitely not going mental in the head, nor was she losing her marbles. Should it have been real, Beck himself would have seen it the moment he had walked into the morgue and, based discreetly upon his reaction, he had not. Otherwise, he did not say so.

And, unlike when she had in the basement of the abandoned, or seemingly abandoned building in which Trina had nearly burnt to crisp, Jade did not react to the ovens beneath the ground, though she could not help the dull aching within her heart as the bodies came into sight and mind – even for her, this was cruel and over the top; she would never in her right mind even think of something as horrendous. But she had felt for the most part, numb, and shied away from the pit with a grimace on her face and a faint glimmer of defiance within each gray irises. About here, there were most likely more – she could tell by the indents of the ground, but she, nor did anybody else, dare to go near them. These were not here when she'd last been here, and based upon Beck's appalled expression, he had been thinking the exact same thing as she was, and he was there longer than she.

"So what do we do?" Asked Tori worriedly as she wrung her hands, occasionally glancing at the cremation region several feet away from her, appearance guilt-struck. "Do we leave?"

"No," said Jade as she fished another cigarette from her back pocket – it had not even been an hour and she's been aching for another one; absently, she wondered how Cat had done it. "We keep looking; for all we know, no one is here. Otherwise we would have seen someone. Don't wimp out – does it look like anybody else is here?"

"Are those yours? Since when did you smoke?" Beck furrowed his brow as he spoke, prodding the pack of Marlboro's with his index finger.

"They were Cat's."

"Ha, nah really, who's?" Andre laughed half-heartedly, though his smile was short lasted, and instead replaced by a frown.

"Did I stutter, Harris? They were Cat's, and that's not the point anymore," She explained irritably as she held the cigarette between her teeth, breathing in just barely as she lit it carefully behind her palms. "The point is," she removed the blunt from her lips and exhaled a cloud of smoke, the others appearing uncomfortable, "that we should continue looking."

"Jade," started her boyfriend warily, "can you at least tell us what happened down there? I mean, you were pretty…I don't know, but it didn't seem like it was like you, I guess."

"What happened?" Robbie questioned.

"You know why Beck, you just want them to hear," she said bitterly, though not as bitter as she would should she have been talking to someone else. She did not remove her hand from his, and used her free one to take another drag of the cigarette between her fingers, "Brent's body is in the morgue,"

"But…you screamed for me, and when I came you looked like you were being cornered and when I tried to help you, you told me to shut up and pushed me away."

"Let's not talk about that, got it?" She snarled at him, her eyes nearly pleading – something only Beck was capable of catching behind cold glares as such she was giving him. He said no further, and with another grimace she turned toward the rest of the group, her heart slamming within her chest. "Let's look on the other side…that's where the fields were."

Turns out, the building wasn't abandoned after all.

And, ten minutes into their scoping, they had found two lone people lazily working within the fields, and, upon seeing them, her heart stopped for what seemed like a full minute within her chest. She was sure the other's had as well.

Jade's jaw hung agape as she stared at the girl working profusely in the field beside another, unknown and unfamiliar man. Her skin was nearly albino, tinted blue as though she was cold, standing in a bucket or shower of ice and frigid air. Pin straight brown hair cascaded lusciously down her shoulders, and when she had exposed her neck, collarbone and face she gasped in disbelief, the previous night's visuals slamming back into her mind. Along the smooth porcelain flesh were those same Russian symbols, as it stamped from the pages of a book and engraved into the skin. It varied from the side of her face, bold and small, to the very bottom of her jaw; it separated once, to the side and the middle of her neck, and did not stop until it had reached her collarbone. She looked young, a juvenile, beautiful face with a dimple to her left cheek, perfectly sloped nose. She turned toward her, as though she could feel each and every stare, and her lips upturned in a Cheshire grin.

It was Cat.

"Am I going insane?" Jade mumbled to herself, the cigarette falling from her pointer and middle finger and into the grass beneath her; she didn't bother to put it out, as she was staring straight ahead with her jaw hanging ajar – someone else, Beck, had done it for her with a swift stomp of his combat boot. She shook her head, rubbing her eyes, and opening them once again, in hopes that the brown haired girl would no longer be there. Of course. She was wrong.

"No," said Andre as he stepped beside her, his voice fairing, like hers, no higher than a whisper, "I see her too."

"That's not possible." Tori breathed, grasping Andre's arm as if it was acting like some sort of lifeline. Her eyes were as wide as Jade's, and for once, the Goth had nothing to remark, nothing to insult her with – in too much shock herself. "That…that can't happen! This has to be some sick, twisted dream!"

"Or a sick and twisted reality" Beck murmured from beside her, his arm tightening around her waist whilst she repeatedly slapped the back of her hand against his abdomen.

"She's coming over," she said as he gripped her hand, stopping the violent, rapid hits in which he was suffering.

"What are you all doing back here? I though you guys were rescued…" Asked a smooth, harmonizing soprano voice as she grew near, keeping her slight distance with a confused and yet at the same time, worrying frown marring her pretty, porcelain features.

"_I thought _you were dead" Said Beck quietly, his brows knitting together, as though he didn't believe what was happening before his very eyes. The rest, seemed incapable of speaking at all. Like always, the tan Canadian was the most collected of the group by far. "Hell, we all _knew_ you were dead. Your funeral…your body…"

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

"But you're dead," Jade deadpanned quietly, just above a whisper, with a shake of her head. She was unable to believe that the brunette before her was very much alive at this point, no matter her condition nor how she appeared – she knew, however, that this was not the hallucination in which she had seen in the morgue just the previous night, as the others could see and talk to her as much as she can.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The short girl asked, offended, signature saying followed suit of a gasp.

Jade felt light-headed. This _was not_ a dream.

"Rina…" She said breathlessly as she blinked, the events with Brent earlier barreling back into her mind. Perhaps, now as she stared at the dead girl before her, that was not a hallucination or an illusion after all, "you died. How is this…possible?"

"Please answer before I faint," whimpered Tori, leaning against her own boyfriend with brown eyes as wide as saucers – Jade didn't even have the will to insult her.

Cat's lips stretched slightly in a smug, uncharacteristic grin as she grabbed the gothic's hand in her own (who was surprised that she could actually feel her, rather than go right through like the entire ghost cliché) all the while pulling the pack of Marlboro's from her pocket without her noticing right away. "Nope,"

"No?" Asked Andre with a look of equal confusion, just as the rest of them had, as he eyed the petite girl slipping the pack into her shorts pocket. There was blood on her shirt, exactly where she had been shot, but the crimson was caked and dry.

"Not on this island I didn't."

"_What?_"

"Does it happen all the time?" Robbie interrupted, looking rather frightened, "when people die here – they…well, they err, come back to life? Is that what you're saying?"

"Um, yeah! You've got it." Cat shrugged, squeezing Jade's hand; the Goth chewed on her lower lip, resisting the tears; the latter's hands were ice cold, but other than that, they did not feel hard, yet soft, and smooth.

"Then…" Spoke Beck, drawling on his words, "when, and how will that end?"

The short, _dead_ girl's eyes landed on him, and Jade swore she saw a glimmer of sadness etch across the foggy, brown irises and her smile fade for a fraction of a second. She stared at him for a considerable amount of time, the upside down smile never leaving her face – to Jade, this was rather worrying, and she didn't quite understand what was going on, but before she could question Cat spoke once more. "You shouldn't worry about that Becky." She whispered, "it'll all be over soon."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh snap<strong>_**! Bet you guys did NOT see that coming, did you? I'm just full of surprises;) Don't worry, it'll all be explained in the next couple chapters – it's going to lead to something big, believe me. Cat's kind if sketchy now, isn't she? Tehe.  
><strong>

**I hope you guys liked it! I'm a little bit iffy about Robbie's POV because this is the first time in the history of time that I'm writing from his perspective, so I hope I got it at least a little bit. Oh, and in case you're wondering, this story will **_**not**_** take on any cliché type, horror stories of the living dead or anything like that. In any way, it's going to edge on supernatural. Kind of. I dunno, but the plot's going to kick up more after this, and there will be more of Brent very, very soon! :) I have so many surprises up my sleeve, omg it's unreal.  
><strong>

**Qwert, lankyafricankid, Jeremy Shane, Anon's, Jadiee, Lily Jess, Pinkbull115, Imrighthere13, Songbird341, kikudog6, boo, Andrea1301: **Thanks for your reviews! Keep them coming, they all make my day! :D

_**No sneak peek, sorry!**_


	7. Abdicate

_**Chapter Seven  
><strong>__Abdicate_

_Cat Valentine leaned against the wall of the abandoned house, exhaust, the sour scent of marijuana that is, absorbing the oxygen around her. She was outside of Los Angeles California, just on the outskirts with a group of close friends and barely in the town of Ventura, and to put it candidly, each and every one of them were blazing and she didn't have a care in the world. She had just come from the beach with her friends, whom she had been locked in the RV, and the moment she had gotten home she got inside her car and hit up Travis Holbrook, someone from her old school in Bakersfield. Needless to say, at midnight they had ended up in the vacant house with a stash of drugs._

_And she was high out of her mind._

_Not that she cared or anything like that._

_She knew that if her even closer group of friends had discovered her doings, that she was a junkie, she would have gotten lectured and lectured and lectured and she didn't want to hear that – even though it proved that they had cared about her. In reality though, she didn't want to hear it because she didn't want to stop this; she was having fun, she was relaxing, she was throwing all of her daily stress in the fucking trash can. And, as an added bonus, those medications she was on were no longer needed whenever she had a pipe or a cigarette in her hand; they didn't matter anymore. _

"_This chair is so eff-ing uncomfortable" said Travis drowsily as he slumped in the only seat in the room up the stairs, cigarette burning in between his fingers, "I brought it upstairs so we can have a good time and it's uncomfortable"_

"_You look like a king" she giggled lazily, fiddling with the pipe in her hands, "all you need is a robe thingy and a crown and BAM. King Travis Holbrook of Ventura,"_

"_Dude, you look like an idiot" Said Mike Bennett, another one of her friends, "move and let me sit,"_

"_No," he said with a laugh, a smug smirk upon his face, "I brought it up here so I get to sit on it, asshole. Back off," _

_Her cell phone rang loudly from beside her, startling the young redhead out of her dazed state as she watched the two boys argue back and forth over the hideous pumpkin pigmented chair. She clicked answer with her thumb and placed it to her ear, not even bothering to check the caller ID, "hehe hello?"_

"_Yo, Cat? There's a fucking inspector outside of the house – tell everyone to get the hell out of there he's calling the cops." Said Victor Carrow; he had just left the house minutes before hand to meet up with his girlfriend, and spoke in a rushed tone._

"_Crap," she cursed, shooting to her feet and darting to the window, pushing the curtain back. Indeed, there was someone outside of the house speaking on his telephone, but thankfully he had been facing the other direction and had not noticed her standing in the second story window pane, "who is he, is he really calling the cops?" She was suddenly brought out of her dazed reverie and was now high on alert. _

"_I hear him talking to him so get everybody the hell out of there! Go out of the window if you have too, I don't give, just get out and go back to Mike's house or something."_

"'_Kay" She hung up her phone without another word and dashed into the other room, where each and every single person stared at her wondrously, with bloodshot eyes and dilated pupils. "Someone knows we're here and they're calling the cops."_

_That was all she needed to tell them, and within seconds, all of them were dashing through the rooms, and to the back door. Cat was the last out of the house, nearly tripping upon her own feet as she expeditiously sped down the flight of stairs on the porch and through the yard of another house. Her mind was fuzzy and she hadn't a clue of where she was going; she was following another, unnamed girl closely, and all she knew was that she needed to get the Hell out of that area immediately, before the cops arrived. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest as she ran, her unzipped sweatshirt flowing freely behind her, whipping about in the wind as she sprinted down the street, through yards, doing anything to get as far away as remotely possible, well aware that she had arrived back in Los Angeles, as she wasn't far away._

_Where did she end up?_

_At Jade's, separated from the rest of her scattered group._

_Needless to say, that lecture she was worrying about…yeah, she got it. And from Jade, while she was high, she would have rather been caught by the police that'd been called._

* * *

><p>"So…Cat," said a voice behind her, breaking her from her memory, and although she had recognized the voice immediately she looked over her shoulder anyway in question, foggy brown irises meeting those of Beck's, who faltered before he continued speaking again, "how…Your body – we saw you get buried; I attended your funeral, I saw you get put beneath the ground. How is it here? I mean you're not a..."<p>

"Ghost's don't exist," She answered nonchalantly, glancing up at the moon above them. The group had decided to stay at the abandoned building, which was really only abdicated for the next couple nights due to reasons she knew not of (all she knew, is that _he _had ordered that she, along with the other boy, stay), at her okay, and had been sitting at a fire outside. However, nearly every single one of them had ventured inside and to the bedrooms she had shown them, to sleep – since she couldn't, she decided to stay until the fire had gone out, and then, she would return to the morgue.

"That doesn't answer my question though," he proceeded as he sat down beside her, his bicep just barely grazing her shoulder; this didn't bother her, as she couldn't feel anything. It was as though her skin was completely numb; she couldn't feel the loving hugs that she had gotten, nor the kisses upon the cheek and the forehead – although she knew the admiration to be there. She longed to feel again; but she had forgotten what it was like, and the more it slipped her mind, the foggier the want had gotten.

"Have you ever heard of grave diggers, Becky?" Cat inquired curiously, turning her head to the side and looking up at him to investigate his reaction. His callous hands clenched into fists, and she could easily see his scar he had received here.

"Yeah, those sick bastards who dig up people's graves and take the bodies, right?" He didn't look at her, "that's what they did to you, huh? Who?"

"I can't tell you that,"

"Do you choose not to, or do you not know?"

"Oh, I don't know who did it but I have a…vague idea," she shrugged her shoulders, "does that answer your questions?"

"Well I guess, but I have loads more." Beck said quietly through a clenched jaw, running a hand through his wild ebony hair that had calmed just slightly since she had last seen him, "but I'm sure you already know what they are? I mean, if I was you, I would expect it and everything like that."

"How am I alive?" He nodded, "well it's a confusing, long story. See, there was this virus – _he_ made it himself, out of what I don't even know. He's injected it in everyone who died during the fire that Trina started when Jade killed Mira. I'm still mad at her for that, she went against what I specifically told her to do! Meany." She shook her head and fiddled with her fingers, looking down into her lap whilst she did; she didn't even know if he was catching on to what he was saying, "We're not exactly alive, you see, but we're not dead either. And before you say it, no we're not the Undead."

"A virus?"

"Kind of supernatural, don't you think? A virus that kick starts the heart again, but only for a minute – it's enough to make the brain function for us to live. We used to get injected with it every day, but _he_ realized that it wasn't necessary."

"This is totally confusing me, it isn't really…processing up in here," he gestured to his head with one of his hands, brow furrowed thoughtfully.

"It'll make sense later on, trust me."

"Jade…Jade told me about what happened in the morgue – she thought at first it was a hallucination but now that you're here…she supposes that it's not anymore. She said that she saw Brent, and he told her that everything was her fault, that you both were cheering him on when she tried to commit suicide. That's why she didn't hug you. Is it true?"

Cat nearly blanched, and she was sure if there were any, tears would fall discreetly from wide, dazed brown eyes. She was horrified when Jade had tried to take her life, because at the time she wasn't where she had been now and was watching over the gang as they lived on back in Los Angeles. "What? Of course not!" She said, gapping over at him as his eyes bore into her own, a frown tugging her lips downward and marring her pretty, pale features.

"Then why'd he say it if it wasn't true, and why was he acting the way he was?" Beck asked, "And how come I didn't see it when I came in?"

"Beck…you're asking me questions that I can't answer," She told him earnestly, biting her lower lip and hastily looking away, ashamed of herself that she was forced to fib – it was a good thing, something that had constantly worked in her benefit, that she was an actress and held the ability to lie when she needed too.

And, at his disappointed and rather baffled expression, she wished upon a star that she could tell him.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh good God, I am soo sorry for the incredibly late update! It's only been like three days, but still! I feel kind of bad. This chapter was really short and wasn't that great, so I bet it wasn't that worth the wait lol.<strong>

**Don't freak out. But what happened to Cat, really happened to me earlier today, except I didn't get separated from the people I was with and we went somewhere else with some bread. It was scary as anything, I'm telling you I thought I was going to get caught, even though it wasn't me who was high because I told you I was trying to quit. I just happened to be there hanging around with my friends when they were blazing and all that junk. So I'm a good girl (: kind of.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter and I really hope you leave your thoughts in a review because I love reading them all so much (: honestly, they give me the motivation I need to keep writing and uploading chapters and what not. They all make me smile and they make my day so much better! **

**So thank you and love you guys (:**

_**Sneak Peek**_

He exited the building in a rush, just as his comrades had, with his hand over his mouth and his nose to block the exhaust eliciting from the flames so it had not entered his lungs. The rain was doing nothing to calm the wild blaze, although rather cooling on his skin, and determined, he sprinted as far away from the camp as possible. However, he stopped short upon his foot catching beneath the torso of a fallen, disheveled body, and fell flailing to the ground.

When he pushed himself up and examined whom he had tripped over, and their cause of death, his breath hitched in his throat and he found he couldn't bear to breathe any longer.

And, without another word, he screamed to the Heaven's above.

_**Breathe. It's probably not what you think ;)**_


	8. Phantasm

_**Chapter Eight  
><strong>__Phantasm; Four Weeks Prior_

The island was in flames.

He exited the building in a rush, just as his comrades had, with his hand over his mouth and his nose to block the exhaust eliciting from the flames so it had not entered his lungs. The rain was doing nothing to calm the wild blaze, although rather cooling on his skin, and determined, he sprinted as far away from the camp as possible. However, he stopped short upon his foot catching beneath the torso of a fallen, disheveled body, and fell flailing to the ground.

When he pushed himself up and examined whom he had tripped over, and their cause of death, his breath hitched in his throat and he found he couldn't bear to breathe any longer.

And, without another word, he screamed to the Heaven's above.

Vincent gathered the mangled, sopping wet body of his beloved wife into his arms without a second's hesitation, cradling her into his lap as gently as he could with his head bowed to leaned his brow against her own. His heart ached as though it had been he himself, who had been stabbed rather his wife – it was a pain so foreign to him it appeared to have ripped him to figurative shreds and bloody remains when in reality, it had not, although he wished it had. That way he could be with her wherever she had went, leave his body vacant just as she had. It was guilt, he figured, pairing up with the horrible feeling of sorrow, of loss.

"I've subjected my wife to die" he murmured in her hair just before he had placed her back to the muddy terrain, gently, as though she was made of fine glass. His decision was made; he knew what he was to do and though vengeance burned through his veins like the fire behind was within him, this had to be done. It would fall all into place, see, it would work well in the end and without a doubt, he knew it would.

Because everything always did.

Kissing her still lips one last time, Vincent stood upon his feet and glared at the burning building behind him, his decision clear and set into stone. "I'll see you soon Mira, and your death shall be avenged." He growled as he lurched back into his once safe haven, his home, his camp he had built seventeen years ago when his own plane had crashed upon the island – something he and the other survivors had created; an order, an organization – whilst it burnt to candid ash. With each heavy footfall, muddy boots slapping amply upon the ashen, scorched tile, his heart beat faster and fiercer, thudding against his ribcage like a strong iron fist determined to maim. He wasted no time to go to his quarters, the only place that had appeared, despite the hallway he had just walked and the entranceway; if he was going to die, he was going to die there.

However, the fifty year olds plans faced an obstacle; upon his way to his Quarters he had passed the barracks door some feet away on a platform just beside the flight of stairs, and, just in time to see a young man about the age of twenty, quickly make his way from. It was his son, Viktor, who was just slightly lankier than he with a mess of curly brunet hair and a handsome face and perfectly sloped nose. His face ashen with soot he dropped his belongings to the floor and rushed over to his coughing fire as the exhaust about them consumed the very little air let, entering his lungs each time he had breathed. "Father!" He called through the intonations all about them, voice muffled as his hand covered his nose and his mouth to protect himself.

"Vik…" Vincent coughed roughly and uncontrollably as he begun to speak, eyes watering and, as the flames licked the decaying walls of the prison building, his skin, the blood beneath, beginning to boil and heat up expeditiously. "Viktor, get out," he finally managed to splutter as he choked upon the gas, his lungs constricting wildly as he attempted to instinctively regain control.

"Yes," said his son, grabbing hold of his wrist and proceeding down the stairs, "let us both get out father – it's not safe to go back to your Quarters."

"I know you adolescent fool!" He growled as he ripped his arm away from his grasp, his hand meeting the hilt of his hand gun as he pulled it from the back of his pants, in which it had always been kept. "Which is why I say to get out; never disobey my orders, I've told you this" _cough_, "countless times in the past! Now go!"

"Well this is an order I'll have to disobey," Remarked the younger boy as he made a lunge to grab his father once more, but Vincent resisted, shoving him away with rough callous hands. Viktor glared at him in confusion, a furrowed brow, yet it had been soon replaced by a look of horror as the elder man fell to the ground, unable to hold himself with the smoke inhaled into unhealthy bronchi, in a fit of severe coughs, gasping for much needed air. He knelt down beside him quickly, shoving the gun away from him, and gripping his father by the shoulders. "Come on, we need to go before the exits blocked! We'll burn!"

"It's up to you, my boy" Said the coughing man lying upon the ground, a weak smirk marring his features.

"Enlighten me, please – why are you doing this?"

"My…my son," Vincent grasped hold of his son's forearm, staring up at the twenty year old through the exhaust surrounding them; it was beginning to get harder to breathe, the smoke filled his lungs like a hose to a pool, and he resisted choking.

"Father?"

"You must make sure that," he coughed and spluttered, "make sure the boy, _he_, dies the way I have."

* * *

><p><strong>Really disappointed it's so short, but I promise the next one won't be… Sorry for the long wait.<strong>

**I think I'm losing my creativity guys – this is no good, no good at all. I don't know why, but all of the sudden, I've gone brain dead; I looked over the document I had with the plot and everything and I was changing **_**everything **_**because I didn't like what I chose the first time and I think it just got lamer the second time. Then I changed them back, tweaked up a few things, but I'm still not satisfied with it whatsoever. So that's kind of why it's been taking me a while to update recently. I apologize for that, really. **

**But I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway; the only one that I didn't have already uploaded on this website that I didn't change at all. I bet you guys were expecting something else ;) hehe, I was such a troll with that preview the chapter before this one. And, just a warning, the next couple chapters are going to be flashbacks and we won't be seeing Jade, Beck, Tori, Andre or Robbie for quite some time, although there will be mentions. I'm just shoving that out there so you guys are aware and you're all not like "wtf is this?" haha. I'm doing this for a reason though! Not fillers – informational chapters, almost. I don't want to give much away about them, but yeah.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed, favored, story alerted and waited patiently! It really means a lot to me that you guys like this story so much:) Much love! **

_**Sneak Peek**_

With callous fingertips sullen with soil and caked with dried, dark blood, Brent traced the name engraved upon the headstone, shovel abandoned beside him. His sickly heart seemed to ache as it continued to faintly pound against his ribcage as he read the words beneath the name and he wedged his lip between his teeth so hard that it should have drawn blood; however, it had not. Instead, the skin cracked and split dry – as dry as tearless eyes, that craved and ached to water. He had known that it happened – for he had watched, he had greeted her when she had passed, but seeing this now was far too much for him to handle. It had almost seemed surreal, like a demented, mentally ill dream he was enduring.

_Caterina Hannah Valentine  
>September 11, 1993-2010<br>Beloved daughter, sister and friend_

And in the dead of the night, he dug the shovel into the soil.


	9. Hellion

_**Chapter Nine  
><strong>__Hellion_

Brent did not recall the last time he had opened his eyes, beside when he had been in the world of the dead – Heaven, some people would call it; to him, it was simply a world, a world with different, deceased people. However, when he had peered from beneath blood red eyelids he was no longer where he had last rested and instead, in a dark, muggy room. Blinking discreetly and sitting up, a vague pain erupting from his chest and spiraling through his veins in hot white flashes. Pain was foreign from where he had just been pulled, and any sources of human feelings were as though, a stranger to him; he had not remembered agony at all, and he couldn't say he exactly liked it. Gripping his chest, exactly where his heart should have been he winced and with his free hand rubbed his forehead, glancing about his surroundings in slight curiosity. Where was he?

Unable to recognize anything, not even the low domed ceiling, the rickety fluorescent lights…nothing. The scenario around him however, though not ringing any bell within his memory, should have been frightening or eerie – however, beside curiosity and pain he felt nothing, numb. The countless number of unmoving, bleeding bodies should have sent him over the edge in terror and to be on the alert, whereas he would have made some type of move to get himself out of here as fast as he could. No matter his thoughts, he did not budge from the hard metal cot in which he was sitting.

And then, as he brought his hand up to rub his jaw, something had caught his eye.

There was foreign lettering, all over him. It has seemed as though it was stamped and then engraved in his skin to scar with black ink mingling with a dull red, thick liquid. He had seen blood before, countless of times, but this had looked as though it was old and though it hadn't been pumping in a very long time. Curiously, he brought soot blanketed fingertips to swipe across them, smudging it along albino pale skin. He was never that pale before, even dead – what the hell happened to him?

"Don't worry," said a taunting voice, and, looking up, his eyes interlocked with that of another males, who appeared to have been rather smug, "it'll stop bleeding soon – in fact, all of your blood will freeze in a matter of dear time; as though you had none to begin with."

"Why…what…who are you?" Brent stammered, unable to form a correct sentence properly, for whatever unknown reason. He winced as the pain in his chest increased, feeling as if he was being weighed down by an elephant.

"My name is Viktor Crowe, the son of Vincent and Mira. You may not recognize the names, but you may recognize me," removing the bronze curls from his facial, he was enabled a better look at the young brute before him. It took him a rather long time to enhance each and every one of his features, for his vision was blurring. He looked familiar for a split second, and then, all at once, his memories from when he was alive barreled into him, one in particular.

"You're the one who disposed of me when I was shot," he murmured quietly, averting his gaze, "you knew I was still alive when you saved my mates, when you saved her."

"Correct," Said Viktor with a nod of his head, examining Brent thoroughly, "muscular, tall – you seem of great use."

"Use?"

"Here," Viktor said gruffly as he shoved the spade into Brent's unexpecting hands, a smirk on his features. "She's buried in the Westwood Memorial in Los Angeles. Don't keep me waiting."

* * *

><p>Nearly hours later, the young Australian arrived in Los Angeles, in the Westwood Memorial graveyard as he was asked.<p>

At twilight, when he was sure there was no one around, he had found her grave with little difficulty. Around it, lie flowers of varying colorations, and, leaning against the headstone was a small school photograph of the girl too young to die. He knelt down before it, grabbing the thin paper between his index finger and his thumb, cold dead eyes staring intently at the perfectly happy, smiling face staring up at him. On a massive time frame, having to be back at the island before sunrise, he placed the photo in a safe place. However, it did not stop him from examining anything else – he had hours, he could get this done when needed, and he hadn't needed to rush, he decided.

With callous fingertips sullen with soil and caked with dried, dark blood, Brent traced the name engraved upon the headstone, shovel abandoned beside him. His sickly heart seemed to ache as it continued to faintly pound against his ribcage as he read the words beneath the name and he wedged his lip between his teeth so hard that it should have drawn blood; however, it had not. Instead, the skin cracked and split dry – as dry as tearless eyes, that craved and ached to water. He had known that it happened – for he had watched, he had greeted her when she had passed, but seeing this now was far too much for him to handle. It had almost seemed surreal, like a demented, mentally ill dream he was enduring.

_Caterina Hannah Valentine  
>September 11, 1993-2010<br>Beloved daughter, sister and friend_

And in the dead of the night, he dug the shovel into the soil.

It pierced the dry terrain without mercy, the grit crumpling and crackling softly as the metal came in contact, breaking it from its former location and spreading it amongst the grass, further away from the grave. His hands gripped the wooden handle as tight as he could as he dug deeper, tossing the soil lightly to the side, a mound beginning to form with each shovel full. Single grains of the dirt crumpled down the mound as he tossed another load heavily upon it; a domino effect occurring nearly seconds after. Little by little shovelfuls of sullen grit cascaded upon the hole in which he was digging, the pile far too large to contain any more weight. Frustrated, Brent inhumanly growled and with his spade he tore into the dirt below him, beginning a new mound on the other side of the grave he was currently digging.

Soon, nearly twenty minutes later, the iron tool collided against something solid – and he knew it to be the coffin. Gathering all his scrambled thoughts and collecting himself, he tossed the shovel toward the side, getting upon his hands and knees and pushing the rest of the dirt away with his bare palms. His fingers curled around the corner of the coffin, flat fingernails digging into the wooden crate and tugging upward. With a swift creak the coffin lid opened on the opposite side of him, swinging and colliding with the wall of dirt behind it, enabling it something secure to lean upon. Daring a glance within the interior he looked down; his beloved lay as though unharmed and sleeping, hands crossed over one another elegantly, limply. She wasn't rotting, that he considered beneficial to this project and all else, and though deceased she looked beautiful. However, her pale skin, the lifelessness, the partially sunken cheeks – all was eerie, but he imagined he looked no better than she.

Throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly, he turned and leaned over the short edge of the six foot wall beneath the ground, his fingers clasping around a fallen, full needle consisting of the virus. He placed his thumb at the top and, very accurately, turned to hover it before her chest where her heart was located. With a V-neck dress draped upon her he was easily able to maneuver around the light violet clothing without exposing anything he shouldn't have saw, and the needle was not even an inch away from piercing her skin.

"I'm sorry love," he whispered as he kissed her forehead, knowing full well what he was condemning her too, "I'm sorry I'm disturbing your peace." And with that, he raised his arm high and forcefully pressed the thin needle into her skin, to pierce her still heart, pressing his thumb down slowly as to inject the dangerous virus into her. Once he was sure every ounce was injected and no longer in the needle in which he was holding, he pulled it gently from her skin and tossed it toward the side, leaning back against the wall once more, waiting. Waiting for her to live again once again.

He did not have to wait long, however; only a mere minute or two.

In an instant, Cat Valentine's eyes flew open.

* * *

><p><strong>Sooooooooo. I've had a spontaneous idea while in English class today and I wrote it down on a scrap piece of paper so I wouldn't forget – it's an idea for a new multi-chapter story when I'm done with the two I'm currently working on, and maybe if I have all the chapters finished while I'm still working on these, I'll post it whenever (already I have two chapters finished!) It's, again, a new story and it'll be HorrorSuspense with a pinch of tragedy, hurt&comfort, romance and angst of course! Basically what all my stories consist of…haha. But to me, the idea seems awesome and I can't wait to start! It's going to have a lot of violence and kind of gore-ish…so if you're not a fan of that then...o.o well. **

**Eek, I haven't been updating lately :/ Sorry! And also sorry for any confusion in this chapter; I understand there might be some. If there is, then feel free to ask me and I'll answer them to the best of my ability! I'm the author of this story after all; I think you'll find I have the answer. And chances are if you have one question about this, then so do the rest of my readers.**

**Thank you all so much for reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of them and I love you all! (:  
>Andrea1301: <strong>I don't think you know how close you are to being right (you and several others) – however, you'll find out very soon! I can't give it away just yet :P Thanks for reviewing!  
><strong>Kikudog6<strong>: Beck, you mean? Lol – & Aww thank you! I was just disappointed that it was so short and what not; I don't like letting you guys down with really short chapters 'cause I feel like I am. See, I'm a very self conscious person and I doubt myself all the time, but I'll get over it eventually! But thank you again, means a lot! Much love:) s2  
><strong>Songbird341<strong>: Oh I'm inspired to write the story; I have my motivation (which is you guys, as readers), but I just feel like I'm, in a way, not satisfying you guys enough with the story line? It happens nearly all the time for me, so it should be something I'll get over rather quickly. Maybe it's all the stress from school and a lot of family problems that's making me have negative thoughts toward it, and writing in general at the moment. Who knows, but thank you for your input, as always I really appreciate it!

_**Sneak Peek**_

"It's you," Cat breathed quietly as the man with the curly brown hair came into view – to all others, Viktor, to her, someone she had vaguely commemorated – "you're the one who led me here all those weeks ago!"

"Very quick memory, you have," he chuckled with a shake of his head, hooking his finger beneath her chin and examining the structure of her proportional face and jaw bone. "I'm also the one who had given you the pack of cigarettes that one day you were working the fields – how I managed to disappear so quickly is only the mystery of having fast strides, and a distracted young girl sitting beside you."

"You – you jerk!" She shouted, pushing her hands flat against his chest and attempting to shove him away.

"Easy there, my lovely," Viktor arched and eyebrow, barely budging as he gripped her wrists tightly within his palms, "you haven't been fully injected yet; you have quite the ways to go. I'd save your energy if I were you."


End file.
